Our Self Made Stars
by xThug-Lyfe
Summary: Modern AU: It's a new beginning as they dance with disaster and sing in the smoke. Sakura and Haku arrive in Konoha to begin lives as new people, free from acid rain and dirty jobs in Ame. Going to high school with only a freakishly good knowledge of how to hurt people may not be the best start, but they're going to make the best of it they can. HakuxKimi, Sakura undecided.
1. Pleased by his abstract machinations

Rain pelts down furiously from the iron sky, searing the skin and souls and minds of the myriad of existences lost and alone writhing throughout the oily black city-scape. The life found within this soul-less mass of concrete and battered steel is not life as such, as a growth from the dead like maggots or mold dragging themselves to existence out of a fetid corpse; _fetid _being a frighteningly apt word to describe Amegakure.

A city hidden in torrential rain and screaming with the sheer force of human misery distilled within.

It was all a cycle-the simplicity of it the only remotely harmonious feature of the entire putrid excuse for a society – take a hit; kill; fuck; sell (sell your heirlooms wedding-ring body soul children eggs); degrade; hate; rip; devour; _roar and roar and scream your defiance- in the throes of a high which burns like the sun courses through your veins and rips through crosshatching blackened needle scars._

* * *

A dank basement (one of many although certainly not one of the worst) filled with bitter blue smoke and bleeding yellow light. 'Dante' owns it, so called because he has become something of a hell's narrator, totally aware and skilfully guiding.

His name was once Zabuza but he likes Dante. It was a gift, one of few he has ever been given, as well as conveniently disconnecting him from the massacre of 49 children and countless adults (_Ah, youth.)_. But Dante is dying. He isn't surprised, having made it past thirty makes him something of an antique in the drenched (in sin and rape and stolen children) city.

So choking on his own fluids because of a fucked-up dose of E is an unpleasant but not shocking way to go. Gurgling through the syrupy liquid crowding inflamed red airways Dante attempts to make just the tiniest bit of safety wing its way like a dirty dove to the two frail forms clutching at his rank shirt.

"Konoha… Ka..ka...sh…whi..fang…"

Dante is rather pleased by his abstract machinations, the usual thoughts of ripping flesh and young screams momentarily abandoned for the nauseously amused thought that he of all people was releasing them from his hell, with a good intention (because after all wasn't that what brought people to hell to start with?).

As the blue smoke curls and caresses the crumpled forms, and the filthy water continues to be ripped from the so-called heavens Dante becomes Zabuza again and dies frothing at the mouth and ripping into the spinal cord of a long dead eleven year old.

* * *

After much searching two figures eventually emerge out into the rain clutching within their shirts thousands of dollars' worth of drugs and enough hard cash to get them to Konoha.

There was no point doing anything with the body apart from closing the eyes. The Harvesters would probably sniff him out soon enough anyway, the body snatchers working as free-lance body collectors for the organ dealers and labs.

The blurred figures disappear into the night.


	2. A knife dangerously close to his crotch

A/N: Fanfiction americanises my spellings, hey ho. If you see any errant favours or colours, that's why. I've officially left sixth form now so I have a bit of time to tidy up this story and work on my new one. Excuse the swearing but remeber this is a somewhat tense situation so really it's pretty IC, enjoy the new and improved chapter 2!

* * *

Dead yellow air clings to arid fields and oily black snakes lie inert in the morning sun, until a train barrels through the stagnant atmosphere trailing a nimbus of umber diesel fumes and rusty screeching. Folded up next to the window are two small figures consumed by tracksuits. A woman across the aisle who got on at Yukigakure eyes them warily, stiffening at red-brown stains dried in constellations creeping up their legs, and then turning away. Hungry eyes assess her for a threat and then turn away as well.

The journey from the derelict city states of the north takes a long time, rattling ever southwards to the more prosperous south which has escaped the ravages of civil war for the most part.

Eventually the train begins to move into an urban wasteland, abandoned lot's flashing past as it rattles into the humid embrace of Konoha's outer suburbs. Konoha is not without poverty, but lacks the interconnected disasters and atrocities that make up the northern cities such as Mizu and Ame. Here is where Zabuzas' (or is it Dante?) two strays intend to start anew.

* * *

Kakashi sighed forlornly, the dark fog of disappointment making its way over his day. His favorite series of erotica was due to have a new edition out today but it had been pushed back due to some sort of personal issues the author had. Kakashi didn't really see why that should affect the book release- personal tragedies were no reason to deny porn, really very inefficient.

Dismissing his hypocritical musings on efficiency Kakashi pulled down the brim of his beanie and moved along. Someone like the white fang of Konoha did not simply linger on a main street waiting to be found by the filth.

Making his way back to the darkened ally housing a rather salubrious tattoo den he almost tripped over heap of dirty rags on his shops front step.

"Ew." Having one of his (many) flaky moments Kakashi was fussing about how to get rid of the filthy bundle when it moved. _Ah. One of them. _Expression re-hardening behind his bandanna he lifted a foot and shoved them unceremoniously down onto the mottled concrete.

Then faster than he could really blink in the milky morning air there was a knife at his throat and under his arm-dangerously close to a major arterial complex, femoral artery- and crotch. _Crotch._

"There are eight points on the body with which to kill silently… you won't even have time to think before you're finished bleeding out. There are knives at three of these points and another at your dick."

_Eight points…Silent killing…Demon…_

"Did Zabuza send you?" Kakashi sighed inwardly at his own obviously rhetorical question. Lame. Of course that psychopathic cocksucker would train tramp assassins in some fucking 'eight ways to silently make you shit your pants' soliloquy. But considering he owed the Demon a shitload of favors from all the times he had hooked him up back in the day he was frankly surprised that he was trying to kill such a valuable resource.

"Well thank fuck for that. You own this shithole yes?"

"Shithole?! This is the classiest parlour in Eastside." Sniffing indignantly he nonetheless felt relieved at the switch knife being removed itself from the general vicinity of his genitalia.

"So what's the ol' demon up to?"

"He's dead."

"Mmm... so why are you here?"

"We're calling in the favours."

Kakashi paused momentarily in his unlocking of the parlour door, although a lesser man may have totally frozen. _Plural. Holy shit this has the potential to get pretty fucking big. They know about the _plural (as in vast quantity) _of debts_. _Which implies they have blackmail too..._

"We need _jobs._ And names. We have gear but we need to get into the local scene first before we can make any money from it."

Kakashi slouched into a leather arm chair graffitied with a gargoyle and thoroughly slashed all along the woodwork. Taking a better look at his two …visitors, he saw dirty tracksuit tops with marginally cleaner bottoms, tags still attatched. So shoplifting was also on their CV. He saw the smaller one take out a roll up and then fish out an old fashioned silver case of matches from around their neck. Although when the bitter blue smoke began to fill the air it became a little more obvious that perhaps it was less of a common fag and more of an _Ame_ special_._

"And at which point, in this grand scheme of yours, were you planning on showing me some sort of evidence that it was actually the Demon-of-many-owed-favours who sent you? If you have it I have a friend who can get you into the local school pretty easily for a cover; since you're young. Although I'd have to test your abilities before sending you out on _jobs_…I'm the main fixer round here and got a reputation to maintain."

The two track suited figures turned shadowed faces towards each other and after an almost imperceptible hesitation nodded slightly. One of them pulled down their hood and reached into the back of their tracksuit top.

Kakashi wasn't entirely certain it was a girl. The green eyes appeared large but their face was somewhat gaunt so it could be an illusion brought about by their waifish appearance. Her (?) hair was almost shoulder length and had the same dusty and greasy pallor of the face it framed- providing him with no clues there either, although the original colour appeared to be close to blonde. There was a streak of blood dragged over her cheek.

Like war paint, Kakashi mused. He was quickly distracted from his pondering over the gender of the teenager in front of him when a soft hiss pervaded the quiet atmosphere.

The strange green eyes _burned_ as they stared at Kakashi while he in turn uncomfortably shifted his own gaze towards the extremely sharp and extremely _familiar _machete was extracted and laid down on the cluttered table between them.

When they spoke, the voice was rough as yellow sandpaper. The cause of which he didn't know and neither did he care. Not in the presence of a blade which was as much a part of the bloody demons legend as his unrestrained pleasure in bloodshed.

"Proof enough for you?"

He nodded mutely. It didn't pay to ask questions in their world, especially where the seven hells that was Amegakure was concerned. If these kids had indeed been sent by Zabuza (as it appeared they were) then as long as their animosity was satisfactorily far away from him he really didn't want to know how much else the crazy fucker had passed on apart from that blade.

Realizing that he had been rampantly monologue-ing _again _This is why people think we're crazy! _Shut the fuck up _and that the two grimy hoods were, once again, in place and facing him, he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Looks like you two are legit. The debt's repayment gets transferred to you now. My man will be along in the evening to create your Konoha identities. The school year starts tomorrow and there will be significantly less fuss if you begin at the same time as everyone else. After we're sure everything's stable we can see about you getting hooked up for jobs."

As Kakashi rattled off his planned procedure he felt rather pleased. He hadn't had any new school age associates for a while now and they were just _so _useful for infiltration when the client had paid for a younger target, or a campus job. Of course said associates often grew up a little funny (Mizuki being a prime example) but he felt a blasé attitude went a long way in their profession. _Damn straight, just look at us! You're a professional assassin pimp and I design fucking amazing tattoos._ Assassin Pimp? can't I have something a bit less literal to describe my job?

Clearly starting in the business at 11 had done him no real harm even if the ship of non-porous sanity had long since sailed.

"You can stay here and I'll even let you use the some of my clean-up stuff; if you happen to have any Lucy about your fine persons."

The taller figure almost instantly reached into a hidden pouch and withdrew a nondescript looking film canister. _Aw looks like the gwumpy teenager is eager to wash his hair! _Maybe that'll keep him in a good enough mood that he doesn't threaten my _our _dick anymore. _Ye gods that was traumatic._


	3. Good morning my cute little hellions!

Sakura woke up the next day tangled up in the warm limbs of the boy beside her. There was a moment of utter pleasure at the feeling of clean (of dirt anyway, she didn't think she would ever really be clean as a person) hair and skin.

"Haku! Haku wake up."

A quick pinch to the earlobe delivered her sentiment quite efficiently. Seeing the dark brown eyes gaze at her with quiet attention Sakura immediately felt at peace. Wrapping her arms tighter around the thin body beside her she breathed in his uniquely cool scent- incongruously fresh and calming considering the lives they led, but utterly suited to the beautiful boy now burying his face into her mop of pink hair. For a while the whole world shrunk to that one room, and the wealth and machinations of the entire world may as well have been mote of dust compared to the gentle warmth of the sun and the brush of soft breath.

Unfortunately the moment was interrupted by the ever obtuse white fang. Banging open the door and dodging the perfunctory knife hurled at his eye socket he made his cheerful announcement.

"Morning my adorable hellions! Time for your first day as cute little high school students!"

Abandoning his mission to impart information to the pair of baleful glares facing him Kakashi slouched off. He decided that they were clever enough to take out any number of dangerous interruptions when transporting gear, therefore they were clever enough to find the school on their lonesomes.

* * *

Haku took a shaky drag on his cigarette before offering it to Sakura. She cracked an eye open and leaned over to grab it, in no way relaxing the heavy aura that she was projecting. It felt like the heavily muscular stretch of a lion as it readied it accepted the meat laid before it.

"Sweetie," A derisive snort around the cig. "Time for School."

With a heavy sigh Sakura raised herself from the shadow of the white fangs front step and they began their walk to school. Obviously they had absolutely no idea where they were going. Iruka (apparently quite literally 'Kakashi's man', as well as a KPHS teacher) assumed Kakashi would give them the information. Kakashi didn't really give a damn and had gone out to meet up with a client.

Their aimless wandering was pleasant. The balmy breeze and wide streets were alien to them- even the relatively seedy eastside had its fair share of homes and shops just beginning to open their shutters. Compared to the searing misery they had just left the soft yellow sunlight draping itself over Eastside seemed like an opiated dream. They were safe beside each other.

Looking forwards she saw they were turning into a much wider road lined by Cherry trees showering their petals. No such things grew in Ame. Nothing grew there except the conflict between the syndicates and their fallout. By comparison the soft pink fluttering seemed to be something from another world.

When Haku had come to Dante they had both been in need of new names. Hari 310 (as he once was known) was in the approved but he had escaped his facility after a Correctionist destroyed it, and run into the city of Mizugakure. Zabuza was on the brink of death after a client had tried to kill him rather than pay for his services. They had agreed to help each other and agreed that the best way to cover them while they hid and nursed their wounds in Ame, would be to change who they were. Hari 310 offered the name Dante as the 'narrator of Hell' as Zabuza inducted him into the ways of the rotten city. Haku was a simple alteration of Hari 310's original code name. Meaning 'master' it offered him the chance to make himself as he moulded himself to be the perfect tool for Dante.

226 came later. She never had a name and saw no need for one when her 'identity' was printed in indelible acid scars across her skin. No one knew her, she and many other faulty test subjects had been on their way to be destroyed when the bus crashed. As far as 226 knew she was the only survivor. Haku had found her bleeding out in an alley and brought her to the basement.

She was a weapon or spy or a drug mule. Her existence gained meaning from protecting Haku from his destructive obsession to mould himself to be something he wasn't and serving Dante. Her identity was to carry out the tasks Haku could not and serve her master as best she could.

However when Iruka came the night before he had pointed out that 226 wasn't really something he could register with the school.

"_What would you like to be called? This is your chance to choose a new identity for yourself."_

_"You know nothing of my past."_

_"Maybe so. But my point stands. You can have another life- with a new name you define yourself, and mark out a point in time from which everything thereafter proceeds."_

_"I don't know any girl names I like."_

_"What about a flower?"_

_"There aren't any in Ame… but I saw some trees on the way here. With pink flowers that were falling like ash?"_

_"Sakura trees?"_

_"The ones with short lives."_

_"That's not all though, it's only the petals that have short lives. They are one part of a cycle which continues as the tree continues its growth towards the sun."_

_"I'll be Sakura_." It sounded like what she used to be called back in Ame, 'Six', and she liked what it symbolised._ I might not live long but what I leave behind should be enough to strive for the sun._

Her expression softened as she looked towards Haku. _He is someone who deserves to live in the sunlight._

Coming back to the present they noticed increasing numbers of teenagers moving in small groups around the corner of the long cherry lined street. It seemed like they had almost reached their first day in education.


	4. Enter stage right: a tracksuit

"Good morning kids. We have a new member of 3-C today."

Most people looked up in interest at the prospect of some fresh meat. Due to the unruly reputation of the only non-grammar and coed school in the area there weren't that many transfers in, and those that did were usually there because they had been kicked out of their old schools.

So when an apparently sexless tracksuit followed Iruka into the classroom a moment later they were pretty sure that that was why they were there.

"Sakura, would you like to introduce yourself? Also the school has a no hoods policy, even in non-uniform situations, so if you please…?"

Suddenly the interest of the class (excepting those such as Sasuke and the other assholes that he called his slightly less annoying friends, like Neji) was peaked. Naruto was praying none too quietly to the noodle gods that it was a 'superhot chick' while Ino was praying to the fashion gods for a hot boy.

There was a moment of silence as 3-C processed the phenomenon of a fairly good-looking and exotically coloured girl at the front of their class.

Another moment .Then-

"Hey man, is that shit natural?" Suigetsu's strident voice communicated what they were all thinking. Although in somewhat more polite terms.

"Yes." Despite her alien-princess looks she had a surprisingly husky voice, soft but not too high pitched. Fingering the ends of her mane of rose-pink hair she explained "My family originated from Yukigakure. Lilac is more common but pink isn't unusual there."

This was of course a blatant lie. She had no family apart of Haku, and while her exotic colouring may have originated from a Yukigakure chromosome or two she had far less of a connection to it than she did to the testing labs where she spent two thirds of her life.

"If you would like to do your introduction now, Sakura?"

"My name is Haruno Sakura and I recently moved here from the north with my cousin Haku. I like to cook and go running and I dislike messy things."

Naruto looked vaguely disappointed His lifestyle was pretty much a never ending period of messiness.

"Thank-you. Sakura. If you would like to take a seat there is an empty one next to Sasuke- the grumpy looking one next to the window second from the back."

As the new girl sat down quietly at the seat next to him Sasuke ignored her in favour of signing his new desk with a sharpie. He absolutely hated sitting next to girls, they were bothersome with constant requests to borrow things they didn't need, attempts at conversations or occasionally just ogling him.

He chanced a glance to the side, only to find the new girl glaring ahead, apparently at nothing. Well that was a relief anyway. He settled in for the history lesson, most of which he already knew but Iruka was a fairly good teacher so he didn't mind hearing it again.

He glanced over again. Hm. She was actually sort of pretty, now that he looked at her. New-girls eyes flickered up and held his, steadily. There was heat in her gaze, softly glowing coals behind sea-green glass. Sasuke quickly turned away and told himself that the tips of his ears were _not_ going red. Because he was Uchiha Sasuke, and had far too much testosterone for something like that. He nodded inwardly and carried on with his note-taking, forgetting quickly about the odd girl with burning eyes.

Outwardly Sakura was as collected as ever. However inside she was seriously worried about the feasibility of becoming convincing citizens. Haku had been placed in a different class, and as Iruka lectured on about the economic factors behind Yukigakure's last war she ran down what she knew about history. Which was basically nothing.

Growing up as a genetic experiment/ test subject and spending puberty as a killing machine and drug mule did not allow an awful lot of time for studying. She had time for that now in her new life in the sunny and bright Konoha but apart from being literate and having a freakishly good knowledge of the human anatomy Sakura was utterly unprepared for her year in High school. And not just academically.

She had seen the looks when she had entered the classroom. Wearing a sweater and basketball shorts borrowed from Kakashi in lieu of her uniform she hadn't really been prepared for the sheer alien feeling received when she walked into a classroom full of teenagers wearing white blouses, shirts, pleated skirts, and slacks.

Although there was a general trend towards dishevelment it was still a distinctly different look than she was used to seeing people her age in- bloody black hoods, bone white masks, ragged track suits, fluttering hospital gowns.

What did these people do in their spare time? She doubted that they used their breaks for training or getting stoned like she and Haku were used to doing. What did teenage girls talk about? Were there different rules for male-female interactions? How was Haku managing? Actually that one was a little easier to answer. Haku had a very gentle personality and would probably be very well liked amongst his peers. He had probably already found a cute boy to flirt with and enchanted his classmates.

Sakura on the other hand had all the approachability of a pink rattlesnake. She had no idea how to make or keep friendships. Her and Haku went much deeper than friends, born of a symbiotic dependency spontaneously evolved under the 'apprenticeship' of Zabuza.

She wondered idly whether drinking yourself into oblivion with someone was an appropriate bonding exercise. Or discussions on weapon efficiency. Oh Jashin, she might have to gossip.

Giving up on this somewhat hopeless train of thought she concentrated instead on the steady drone of Irukas' voice and the softly warming sunlight…


End file.
